


Call Back the Years

by Solrika



Series: McGenji Week 2016 [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Day of the Dead, Family, Gen, M/M, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 11:50:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8400586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solrika/pseuds/Solrika
Summary: Day Five of McGenji Week: Family. With Day of the Dead coming up, I thought it would be appropriate to do something around the event.Jesse and Genji take their family back to meet Gabe's.





	

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to know more about the families mentioned in this fic, you can find my hcs about them on my tumblr here:
> 
> http://solrika.tumblr.com/post/148724632063/may-i-ask-for-your-views-on-genji-with-his-moms
> 
> http://solrika.tumblr.com/post/148772050458/today-im-rambling-about-gabriel-reyes
> 
> http://solrika.tumblr.com/post/150099015303/ay-you-know-what-ive-been-sitting-on-this-jesse

Los Angeles makes it hard for Jesse to believe that it’s autumn. The sun’s still hot and bright, and he’s had to trade his serape for a tee shirt. Hanzo looks like an unhappy cat in the slacks and button-down Genji made him replace his usual clothing with, and Zenyatta–well. Jesse shakes his head as he rings the doorbell. The monk’s always going to stand out a little, but it’s debatable if the big orange sweater is helping or hindering that.

Genji, besides him, sways nervously on the balls of his feet. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Jesse answers the unspoken anxiety. “They’ll be overjoyed t’ see you, sweetheart. Besides, ‘s not like we’re droppin’ in unannounced.”

Genji’s rocking starts to slow. “That’s true.”

“Besides, y’remember how much they liked whenever Gabe brought us t’visit? I bet Asad’s gonna open the door with a–”

“Habibi!” The door bursts open, and Genji stifles a squeak as he’s folded into a tight hug. “Oh, it’s been too long!” Gabriel’s father is still tall as remembered, and going soft–softer–around the middle, and when Genji leans his head against Asad’s shoulder, he still smells like cardamon and chai. 

Dulce is next out the door, grabbing Jesse in a hug just as tight, admonishing him for staying away so long and welcoming him back in Spanish almost too fast for Genji to translate. She’s gotten thinner, hair gone white, but judging from Jesse’s laughing wince she still doesn’t quite know her own strength. 

Hanzo startles when yet another old woman pours out the door. Gabriel’s second mother, Gloria, manages to grab him by the hand. “You must be Hanzo!”

The stiff bow he gives is almost comically earnest. “Yes. It is a pleasure to meet you.” 

She takes Zenyatta by the other hand. “And Tekhartha Zenyatta–”

“Yes!” Zenyatta seems overjoyed by the boisterous welcome of Gabriel’s parents. His orbs hum happily, and his bow is just as earnest as Hanzo’s, if less stiff. “Blessings be upon you!” 

Meanwhile, Dulce releases Jesse with a fond pat on his shoulder. “Ah, you look so grown up! I remember when Gabriel brought you the first time–such a skinny little thing you were!” 

He grins, tips his hat at her. “Well, your husband wasted no time fattenin’ me up, ma’am.” 

She laughs, gently pushes him inside. “We’ll make sure to keep doing that. Go say hello to your mother, Jesse–we’ll make sure everyone gets settled.” 

He tips his hat again, and heads for the kitchen. 

The house feels almost too familiar, and he can’t help the ache in his heart at the thought of being here without his commander. Gabriel had always been first through the greeting gamut, laughing in delight the whole while. He should be here, helping carry luggage up, being teased for being too skinny by his parents, heading to the kitchen to assist with the cooking and steal tastes. Luci, Gabriel’s little sister, is missing too, though thankfully only because her work demanded her stay in New York. 

The kitchen looks like it always had–full of spices, bread, with fruit in a bowl on the counter and something bubbling on the stove. There’s a woman standing in front of the oven, bending down to check on something inside, and Jesse swallows. 

“Hey, Mamá.”

She straightens with a grin that’s the match of his own. “Mijo! Ven aquí!” 

He laughs and obeys, crossing the kitchen to sweep her up in a hug. “Oh, I’ve missed you,” he sighs, and she laughs and smiles and nods, and neither of them comment on the wetness of each other’s eyes. 

She says, “It’s so good to see you again, mijo,” and Jesse feels like he’s finally come home.

~

The altar is set up in the backyard, already festooned with marigolds and papel picado, candles burning brightly. It always does something funny to Jesse’s chest to see Gabriel’s picture on it, next to his great-grandparents and one of his aunts. 

Genji sighs, leans against his shoulder. Murmurs, as if reading Jesse’s mind, “It’s not right.” 

“I know.” Jesse wraps an arm around Genji, holds tight. Tries not to think of that horrible first year when no one knew where the younger Shimada had gone, when he thought that Genji’s picture was about to join Gabriel’s on the altar. 

“I miss him,” Genji says.

“Me too.” 

They stand in silence until Genji gives himself a shake and steps forwards. Yasuko and Chihiro Shimada smile out of the photograph he places on the altar, Hanamura’s cherry trees in the background. “I told Hanzo he could bring photos of his own,” Genji says, adjusting the frame. There’s a beat of silence that Jesse interprets as Genji pressing his lips together. “He said he doesn’t have any.”

“You’ve got the only left?”

“I’m sure there’s still some in the castle.” Genji gives a one-shouldered shrug, adding a handful of his mothers’ favorite candies, a single polished shruiken. “But as for our personal photos–yes.” 

Jesse shakes his head, goes to join Genji at the altar. “That’s a damn shame.” 

Sighing, Genji leans back until his back brushes Jesse’s legs. “Yes. I brought a photo of Mondatta for Zenyatta as well, and he’ll be putting up himself later. The monks rarely took any themselves, but the rest of the community loved to document every little festival we celebrated. They mailed me paper copies of some of their favorites.”

“Paper? Old-fashioned.” 

“Old-fashioned things are good sometimes.” Genji tilts his head up, and Jesse knows he’s smiling. “This, for example. It’s a good custom, Jesse. I’m glad you and Gabriel let me join.” 

“Ah, well.” Jesse smiles back. “Was Gabe’s idea. And his family’s.”

“You helped convince me to come the first time.” Through unspoken agreement, they link fingers as Genji stands, lean against each other again. “I think Gabriel would be glad we came back.” 

“Think so too.” 

Jesse’s eyes wander over the altar, picking out his own grandparents’ photos. His mother had brought them, and there’s something comforting in knowing that they’ll be able to tell each other the old stories this year. Genji knows them, too, and there’s something comforting in that as well–that they can share their histories, that their lines can intermingle through talk and laughter late into the night. 

The screen door slides open again, and Jesse shifts a little to allow Genji to check who’s coming without lifting his head from Jesse’s shoulder. It’s Zenyatta, peering out into the backyard. 

“Howdy,” Jesse calls, and the monk blinks his lights in greeting, drifting out to join them.

“This is beautiful,” he says, once even with the altar. “So much care went into this.”

“’Course. ‘s how you show you still love someone.” Jesse watches as Zenyatta leans forwards, carefully slotting photographs in among the marigolds. It’s hard to read omnics sometimes, but he’d like to think he’s been around Zenyatta long enough to tell when something’s bothering the monk. 

Genji speaks first, though, murmuring, “It’s fine to feel sad, Master.” 

“This is a celebration, though,” Zenyatta says, voice carefully tranquil.

“It’s a remembrance,” Genji says, “and didn’t you tell me that we can’t process an emotion we refuse to feel?”

That makes Zenyatta chuckle, lights blinking. “Cheeky.” 

“You don’t know that by now?” Jesse snorts, hugging Genji a little closer. 

“I should,” Zenyatta retorts. He adjusts a photo. Fidgets with his sash. His shoulders droop, just a little, and when Genji reaches out to pull him closer, Zenyatta drifts over without a protest. 

They stand like that, heads on each other’s shoulders, until Asad calls them in for dinner. 

~

Jesse’s brushing his teeth when Genji calls him over to the window with a little hand signal. 

Raising an eyebrow, Jesse shoots back the signal for ‘danger?’ and is met with a headshake. It’s not a threat, then, so Jesse takes the time to rinse out his mouth before going to stand besides his partner. 

Hanzo’s out by the altar, haloed in the flickering candle light. Jesse wraps his arms around Genji, and together they watch the older Shimada light his own sticks of incense. 

“He always was the more private one,” Genji murmurs. “When our mothers died, he never cried at the funerals.” 

There’s no sure way to tell, with Hanzo’s back to them, what he’s feeling now. But his shoulders are relaxed in a way they weren’t when surrounded by the press of people inside the house, and when he kneels it’s a fluid, smooth movement. They watch as he bows his head, folds his hands in his lap. 

Genji sighs, relaxes back into Jesse’s arms. “This is good.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” 

They watch until Hanzo seems to be finished. He stands, places the incense on the altar. All three of them startle when the sliding glass door cracks open, and Dulce sticks her head out into the yard.

Jesse can’t hear the words being exchanged, but whatever they are, they soothe Hanzo’s shoulders back down. She comes to stand by him, pointing at something on the altar. There’s a small smile visible at the corner of his mouth when he turns his head towards her to answer.

“This is good,” Genji repeats, and his shoulders are as relaxed as his brother’s when he stretches up to press a kiss to Jesse’s cheek.


End file.
